


smithsonian sundays

by ElasticElla



Category: How to Get Away with Murder, Scandal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover Pairings, Episode: s07e12 Allow Me to Reintroduce Myself, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 03:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15428472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Instead of going out for a drink, Michaela picks up a bottle of wine.A few days later, she delivers it.





	smithsonian sundays

**Author's Note:**

> can u believe they canonically met? aaaa my beautiful crackship has blossomed into a rarepair \o/

They say never meet your heroes, and Michaela’s hand still tingles from meeting Olivia Pope. She’s always wanted to be a Michelle, but there’s too many skeletons in her closet, too many secrets to be uncovered if she was ever in such a bright spotlight. And she doesn’t want to become an Olivia, has been in DC only a few days and the politics are far less spectacular up close. 

But she can’t stop watching everything Olivia does, with such attention to detail her subconscious must still think becoming Chief of Staff would be possible for her. Even Ms. Pope simply telling her to call her Olivia after another late night plays on repeat in her mind’s eye. (She remembers the time Olivia almost became first lady, but it’s not that either.) 

They won, their case is actually going to be heard and Michaela knows they’ll win it. The question was always if they’d make their way into the courtroom, once there it’s practically old hat now. Professor Keating will move her listeners to tears, work them into a just fervor, and justice will be done. She’ll be lauded as the hero in history books- as she should be- but tonight, Michaela’s here for the woman who opened the door. 

She was planning on dropping off the gift at her office, but the door was locked and her secretary or i.t. guy- a soft spoken man- gave her Olivia’s address. It didn’t seem weird until she got here, and now she’s wondering if this is crossing a line. After all how would she feel if Olivia just popped up at her apartment? (Terrible comparison- Michaela would probably trip over herself trying to be the perfect hostess.)

The door opens before Michaela can decide to stay or go, revealing a surprised Olivia.

“Hi! I just wanted to thank you for all of your help,” she says offering the bottle of wine. 

Olivia raises an eyebrow, and more words rush out. “I know Professor Keating doesn’t always work well with others.” The _unless she’s bossing them around_ stays put in her throat, and Michaela’s cheeks burn. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. 

“Tact,” Olivia says with a small smile, and Michaela isn’t sure if that’s amusement or exaggeration. “You’re good at it, come in.” 

Everything Olivia says feels like it has a double-meaning, but that might just be because she’s been staring long enough to get double-vision. 

“I’ll get glasses, sit down.” 

Michaela does, forcing herself not to sit at the edge like a nervous child. Olivia returns with two oversized wine glasses, large enough to be near comical and Michaela’s lips twitch. 

“I should have bought two bottles.” 

Olivia laughs, somehow becoming even more beautiful. She opens the bottle and pours half in each glass, saying, “Fewer refills necessary.” 

Michaela takes the offered glass with thanks, and Olivia sits beside her. She should say something, but all the sentences that come to mind feel trite or grandiose, awkward or nonchalant to the point of impropriety.

“Breathe,” Olivia says with a small sip. “Now tell me what you want.” 

She does, and Olivia does, and they talk hopes and dreams until a second bottle is opened and finished too. Michaela hears about how Olivia wants to reopen OPA and do it differently. A resource for the common people, that will stay away from the White House and all its temptations. And Michaela wants that, or something like that, something in a new place untainted by past horrors. She doesn’t want to go back to Philly, not when she finally feels safe. (It isn’t logical, especially not if half the rumors about Olivia are true, but she hasn’t slept this well since her undergrad.)

They crash deep into the morning, having migrated to the bedroom, trading stories as they fall asleep.

When Michaela wakes, it’s too warm to be comfortable, sunlight streaming in and heavy heat at her back. A headache pounds at her temples, and she’s tempted to just fall back asleep. But there’s an arm around her middle that stops her, sudden clarity cutting through her sleepiness. 

Olivia Pope is spooning her. 

Holy shit. 

Last night already felt like a fever dream, and this is only adding to the unreality. Olivia’s grip is surprisingly strong, and failing to free herself, Michaela turns around. She wakes up as she maneuvers, her arm briefly tightening before dropping away. 

“Not how I planned on getting you here,” Olivia muses, and Michaela’s stomach flips. 

“Planned?” she echoes, her voice squeaking out. 

Olivia shrugs, “You seem like the kind of girl who would appreciate flowers. Dates too, have you been to the Smithsonian yet?” 

“No,” Michaela answers, wants to pinch herself. This can't be real: Olivia flirting with her, voice still rough from sleep and hair mussed. She's gonna wake up at a desk somewhere, drooling on important paperwork and-

“We could go out to brunch, hit the Smithsonian- how’s that sound?” 

“Perfect. There’s just one problem.” 

“What?” 

Michaela smiles, “There’s no way in one afternoon I’ll be able to see all the museums, much less all the exhibits.” 

“And what would you suggest?” 

“We’ll have to make this a weekly Sunday adventure.”

Olivia laughs, and sure enough, for nearly every Sunday after they walk through halls of art and history, hand in hand.


End file.
